


Through Doors and Death

by TeaRoses



Category: Silent Hill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 02:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaRoses/pseuds/TeaRoses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vincent is the one now trapped in Walter's world.  Originally written for "slash_the_image" on LJ.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Doors and Death

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still not entirely sure why Vincent is listed with the last name of "Smith" here but, well, he is so I went with it.

Vincent follows the stairway down, and he knows he is on the other side, where he never wants to go, never wants to see the places Alessa knows, Claudia knows. It isn't for him; he's just a priest with a weakness, a small man with no magic. He wants someone to come erase this, make it all go away, make it stop, bring him back to the real world if it's really left out there somewhere. He is beginning to doubt.

The stairway winds and he grips the empty air wishing for a railing. And still he takes the steps one at a time, praying to all the gods and saints that he doesn't fall, even though if that could kill him it would be quite merciful, really, compared to his nightmares.

He has his memories of Walter. A man drawn up into himself, he was, eyes only for the god and the mother and the odd combination of the two that he worshipped. And Walter is dead, but he is also here somewhere, an idea that confuses Vincent not a bit, not after all his years in Silent Hill.

Vincent was supposed to be a spiritual guide, laughable as that was, and no one needed guidance more than Walter. But every time they talked it ended the same -- Walter staring into nothingness as Vincent grasped him, not in an embrace but merely holding him down to earth, brushing his cheek on Walter's unshaven face. He longed to tell him it was all a lie, all made up by vicious Dahlia, but you do not take away the faith of a man like Walter Sullivan, not if you want to live.

Then he sees him and it is that simple. Walter is standing on a landing, steps still twining beneath him. He wears that strange smile Vincent always hated, and his hands are buried in the pockets of his shabby coat.

"Vincent, you came!" he calls out as if he weren’t the one who brought Vincent here to these infinite stairways.

He shrugs. "What do you want?"

Walter draws his lips back and shows his teeth. "Perhaps I only wanted a companion," he says with a little laugh.

"I don't want to play your games," Vincent replies, though he knows this is no game.

Behind Walter is a door, a red door with a doorknob and no lock. As Vincent goes closer he hears screams from behind it, along with roars and the sound of rushing fire.

"Do you want to go in?" Walter says, his tone a little song now. "Don't let me stop you."

Vincent is staring into his eyes now, would feel Walter's breath on his face if Walter were breathing which of course he is not.

"What is in there?" Vincent asks.

"Even I'm not sure anymore," Walter answers. "I have suffered too much."

Vincent is not sure what Walter's suffering has to do with it but in the end he only sighs. "Isn't this your nightmare, not mine? Can't I just wake up?"

"Is there anything left for you, back there? No, I think you should stay here with me." Walter draws his hands from his pockets. In his left hand is a knife, rusty and bloody. He holds it out toward Vincent, a wordless offer of death.

And he is right. There is nothing left but Walter, being surrounded by his essence and by breathless horror. And the line between life and death is tenuous here; he could break the barrier so easily.

"Or will you go through the door?" Walter muses.

It's the lady or the tiger except there is no lady, just death from one man or from assorted monstrosities. The tiger or the tiger, or the infinite steps. Vincent turns his head away from Walter and looks down the stairway again. Without another word he begins to descend. He is not hungry or thirsty, and he will keep going down these steps until he can't anymore. One foot down, another foot following, and again, and again. There is nowhere to go, except through doors and death, but Vincent will put off the end for that much longer. And his last thought will be of the green of Walter Sullivan's cursed eyes.


End file.
